Lucky shot

A shrill whistle cut through the morning air to signal the huntress and her approach. This was the first time Vai had done anything she considered true to her old routine in Northaven, and getting up in the chill of dawn and leaving for the woodland... it had her breathing easy, a deep sense of calm settling in her bones. She wore leathers and furs, the same ones she'd arrived in, and her bow and quiver of brightly flecked arrows were safe on her back. She put her fingers to her lips to let out a second whistle as she drew close enough to spot the hawk in the branches, raising her hand to wave at him and let him know he could come down if he pleased. Vervain didn't speak, not yet - she didn't want to raise her voice and scare any game that might be around. vervain where the wild things are